“Be there in a minute,” Grant tells her, and she nods before saying good night and making her way up the bank to the grassy area where we set up camp.
“I think I’m going to try to do the same.” I get up and say a quiet good night to the guys, and Tanner gives me a look that says he wants to kiss me but can’t.
After I quickly brush my teeth, I change into a pair of sweats and a hoodie, then get into my sleeping bag with my headlamp and my book, hoping that reading will distract me from the chill in the air. Tanner won’t come to bed until everyone else has called it a night, so I still have a while before I can shamelessly take advantage of him for his body heat. Something I’ve done the last few nights—not that he seems to mind.
In fact, I think if he had his way, we would squish ourselves inside one sleeping bag. My stomach flutters at the idea of him and me actually sharing a bed and having time alone within four solid walls. Really, I’m a little nervous about what will happen when we head back into the real world. I don’t know if we’ll even still like each other. I don’t know how the chemistry between us will translate when it comes to being intimate, and my experience with men is limited to Galvin, so I don’t know how to be with anyone else. And again, Tanner and I don’t know each other well, so I’m really trying to trust my gut, which has led me wrong in the past.
And then there’s the fact that I’ll have to leave to go home.
When anxiousness starts to replace the excitement I was feeling moments ago, I open my book. If I spend too much time dwelling on what might or might not happen, I’ll talk myself out of taking a chance, which I know I’ll regret in the long run, and with this last week as proof that sometimes trying something new can change everything, I don’t want to do that.
“Cybil.”
I spin around in my sleeping bag and then hold my hand to my chest.
“You scared me,” I tell Tanner as my heart pounds under my palm.
“I called your name about five times,” he says; then his eyes move to the book I dropped. “You didn’t hear me. I’m guessing you were at a good part.”
“Yeah.” I pick it up and flip back to where I left off, then dog-ear the page to save my spot.
“So what’s happening now? Did Katharine come around?” he asks.
“You remembered her name?” I laugh, and he stops what he’s doing to look at me and shrug.
“I guess.”
“Well, Edward is not really giving Katharine a choice, and even though he’s all gruff and badass, he’s sweet with her, which is breaking down her walls.”
“Good for him.”
“Yeah,” I agree as a shiver slides down my spine.
“Cold?” he asks. He changes into a pair of flannel pants and a long-sleeved shirt that molds to his body like a second skin.
“Yeah, it feels colder tonight than it has this week.”
“’Cause we’re on the lake,” he says. Then he orders, “Get up and hand me your sleeping bag.” Frowning, I do as he asked. As I jump around to keep warm, he unzips my bag, then his, and after a few curse words, he zips our bags together. “Now climb in.” I do, and a moment later, he gets in with me. “Now, come here.”
I hesitate for only a moment before curling myself into his side, the position much more intimate without our sleeping bags between us. As I lay my head on his chest, he tugs my leg up over his hip, causing a mass of sensations to flood my system. My belly clenches, my pulse starts to race, and heat rushes between my legs. Lord have mercy, I don’t know if I’ll be able to stop myself from hyperventilating.
“Relax, sunshine.” His warm breath feathers against the top of my head, and I wonder if it’s possible to have an orgasm from just touching and if your hair is supposed to be an erogenous zone, because it feels like it is. Maybe I have nothing to worry about when it comes to us taking things to a new level, because I never felt like I do now with Galvin.
“I am relaxed,” I lie through my teeth.
“Right, you feel really relaxed.” He laughs, then says, “Hand me your book.”
“Why?”
“Just hand it to me,” he repeats, so I reach behind me to find it and hand it over. With my head against his chest once more, I watch him open to the page I left off on and then listen to him begin to read. Hypnotized by his deep voice and the feel of his fingers smoothing back and forth across my spine, I melt against him.
“No one’s read to me since my mom did, when I was little,” I tell him quietly, and he stops, making me regret opening my mouth. I expect him to say something to that, but instead, he just kisses the top of my head, then goes back to reading.